


In A Moment

by FBIEpidemic



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Hey, I Tried, Nobody Asked Me To Write this, This is all my twisted mind, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBIEpidemic/pseuds/FBIEpidemic
Summary: An AU; Psych ward; trigger warning; they're still a family even as broken teenagers





	In A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE LAST TIME TRIGGER WARNINGS

_"At some point in your life, you're going to have to start demanding what you deserve and be willing to walk away if what you require can't be provided." -r.h.sin_

The second that their feet hit the marble floors, she can see the difference in the whites of their eyes. She had taken a class in college, Bio one hundred and forty-something, and they had talked about the nervous system extensively. What she had taken away, and kept tell even now, was that the “flight or fight” feeling was different for everyone. 

When Emily had come in, wrist still an angry red from the brutal assault that she had laid over them, she had attempted to take a step back. Quickly the young girl was halted in the process as she found Walt’s heavy boot planted solidly on the ground, already suspecting her risk of flight. Emily had puffed her chest out and held her head high from that point on, suddenly she found that she believed what the press said. Emily definitely looked like the Ambassador. 

David came in tied on to a gurney, yelling and screaming curses as he fought to be released. She had never seen one person fight so hard to be released from the gurney. She had to give the young man credit, for someone who had his stomach pumped not even six hours before he gave one hell of a fight. 

The ones that hurt the most, she had found, were the ones that came in with no fight. No spirit and hollow. Aaron and Spencer had come in together and the moment she laid eyes on them she knew that these two might just die in her care. 

Aaron spent every night retching up his medication and rocking himself in the bed. She’d find him in the morning, sweating and shivering as dehydration set into his lean frame. He’d fight her until she had the I.V. in his arm and the cool liquids pumping through his body. Then and only then could any therapy be sought. Some days, he’d just stare at her and other’s shivers wracked his pale anatomy as he retold tales of his father’s merciless beatings. 

That’s why it was surprising to find that Aaron didn’t mind having Spencer as a roommate. The two hit it off and Aaron became the map to understanding the mind of Spencer. On days where Spencer chewed his knuckles and refused to talk, Aaron talked softly to the boy and would often be found reading Sherlock Holmes aloud. Those were the days that if you needed to communicate with the boy, you did so either through Aaron or very softly hunched over as to make yourself as small as possible. 

On days when Spencer giggled and rocked his body, Aaron would tell his best jokes and they would put puzzles together. Those days, Spencer was like any other kid,   
On nights when Aaron is not allowed to sleep in the bunk when he admits he’s going to force himself to vomit his medicine to avoid whatever nightmarish fret he’s worked himself into, Spencer lays on his bunk and can be heard softly reciting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s many stories to himself.

She supposes, that this hurt that she feels for these children is better than what most adults have given them in the past. That is what makes them trust her. It’s what keeps Penelope from going as far as biting the skin around her wrist to open them and spill crimson all over her pale skin.

Penelope is like no other child she has ever cared for. Then again nothing about the kids is found again in another. 

Where most children become depressed with age and as premature minds attempt to wrap themselves around the harsh world and its unfair pressure on teens. Penelope wasn’t even given the chance to fall victim to the harsh world. Her parents were killed. Her innocents ripped from delicate hands. 

She can understand why bad things happen to adults. They’ve lived and they’ve hurt but kids… If there is a God, she can’t fathom what kind of monster does this to kids. 

You see, Penelope has gotten to the point where she is willing to cut herself with anything. All supplies have been taken from her and when the art therapist comes, Penelope has to use crayons. As degrading as Penelope makes it out to be, as long as the others are out she always comes. In fact, since Jennifer’s arrival only a few weeks ago Penelope has come out of her shell and can be found usually comforting Jennifer.

These interactions were part of the reason she chose to stay with this group. Their misfit personalities seem to go better together than anywhere else. 

“What’s wrong with the schitz?” 

David was prone to degrading the others when he felt at his utmost low, and since David was always the first to help the others when they were in the same situation, they let him dish out his anger as long as it didn’t go too far. 

Aaron’s hazel eyes flick over to Spencer before narrowing,” he doesn’t like the way your cigarettes smell.”

David throws his arms out, both hands tremble and if you knew what to look for you’d see plain as day that he’s going through withdraws. “He didn’t even say anything.” David takes a long, angered draw off of his cigarettes before flicking its way. “Happy,” David asks scowling at Spencer. Who smiles in response and continues to rub his fingers roughly against his palm, and nods. “Thank you…. David.” 

She smiles with pride, they’d worked on getting Spencer to make eye-contact and use people’s names. So far, it only worked with Aaron and now David. 

Aaron watches the interaction until Spencer hunches his shoulders and wobbles off to where Penelope and JJ stand talking softly about fingernail polish.

Another proud smile falls over her lips as Emily pulls her sleeves down and walks hesitantly to Aaron. She knows very well that the two have a small cahoots going. She also knows that personal relations should not be forming amongst her patients in the fear that rejection or worse would tempt them to take their lives. 

Emily gently takes Aaron’s hand and leads him to the sofa in the corner. 

Emily seats down and waits patiently for Aaron to lay down across the couch until his head can rest comfortably in her lap.

“In the winter, in Russia, I would go sledding,” Emily spread her fingers in Aaron’s hair. “Not just sledding. We’d take lunch trays from the cafeteria, flip them over, and just go rocketing down these hills. You can’t even imagine these hills, Ronny.”

Aaron opens one eye and fixes a mock-glare on her. “Aaron,” he corrects.

Emily smirks,” Jeez, okay. I was just making sure you hadn’t conked out on me yet.”

Aaron opens both eyes to that statement and his eyebrows came together, accenting his hurt feelings. “I’m not that tired.” 

He seats up and before he can fully shut down, Emily places a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to say that, Aaron.” If anyone got offended when it was suggested that they may not be doing well, it was Aaron.

He stays as is for a moment but in the end, he nods his head and lets Emily pull him back down. 

“Well…” Emily tilts her head up. “You can only imagine my mother’s distaste when she came by on parent’s week to find me bedridden with the flu.”

This earns a small smile from Aaron and she knows that she’s mended over her insinuation. “We were out of Russia two weeks later.” Emily strokes Aaron’s hair in a way that makes the soft brown hair stand on end. “However it was here, on American soil where I met my best story yet.” She could feel Aaron slipping with each of her words. Sometimes it was hard to understand how he worked unless she compared it to herself. Then, she could understand that his insomnia was brought on by stress as hers was a condition of a constantly changing environment.

Looking down at the sleeping body in her arms, she figures she has it off best. 

At the end of the day, as long as she hadn’t thought about suicide she’d won the day. Spencer just can’t think away Schizophrenia. He can’t just think away the abuse that led him to be this shell of a thirteen-year-old who tried to kill himself with the king piece of a chess board. 

She shakes her head and begins again with her story. “In America, I found a group of people that feel more like my family than my own blood relation ever has.” Her therapist had warned her about this sort of thinking. He had said that just because her illness isn’t as obvious as Penelope's scars or JJ’s too thin frame does not make her any less worse. 

Emily closes her own eyes, she focuses on the way that Aaron’s chest rises and falls, and imagines what he would look like without the lazy slits on his wrist. She can remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the day that Penelope tried the same.

It was so early that not even Spencer was stirring. He wasn’t until he was awoken by the shrill squeal of the attending nurse.

On that day, it had been five days since the last time Aaron slept, the nurse found Aaron curled around the toilet. His mouth slightly ajar and his chest unmoving as his lung made no attempt to take in the air.

Staff did not need to tell the others what happened. They heard the frantic shouts and saw as one of their own was hauled out of his room and down to a lower floor where he was revived. 

Penelope, being the bright, colorful child she is, could not take the image of her friend from her mind and she came out of her room hours later holding her wrist and frantically calling for help.

At least someone regretted death that day.

Emily was not able to see Aaron for almost an entire month, as his visiting hours were taken from him due to his action until they caught wind as to why he would do what he did. Finally, upon seeing him she wept with joy and held his hand as he slept.

It wouldn’t be until a few days later, in group therapy, when Aaron came in with the aid of a nurse, would they all know what happened.

David stood up so quickly when Aaron spoke the words that he sent his chair tumbling backward. David had shaken his head and pointed a finger at Aaron,” he won’t come here. Do you understand me? Never!”

David escorted himself to his room after he was through. 

It was then Spencer who stood very slowly and spoke very softly the words that they were all thinking. “We missed you.”

This whole mess with Aaron comes from his father. Those jagged scars on his wrist are the testimony that finally needed to be heard because every day since Aaron turned seven his father would turn his fears and insecurities about the world on Aaron. So when Aaron got a card from his father saying that the man from his nightmares was on his way to see him, Aaron ran the only way he knew how. 

Since then, the only visitors Aaron has are the ones that stay in the hospital with him.

This thought jars her. He’s a seventeen-year-old boy. His father is supposed to be in a constant state of confusion and fear for him. Did he do enough? Should he have held him more as a child? Hugged him a little longer? She just can’t comprehend how some men can find themselves to ‘hard’ to ‘rough’ and yet the actual unfit ones can see nothing wrong with themselves. One child will have Aaron’s father and another will have Emily’s.

Maybe that’s just how the world spins. You either die hating your father or he’s gone or dead before you have the chance to learn to hate him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone appreciates this piece that I wrote. No one asked for it and we don't need it and yet here I am


End file.
